


Firelight

by Talayse



Series: Fireside [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marauders' Era, Other, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-28 17:13:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12611416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talayse/pseuds/Talayse
Summary: Remus can't sleep, Sirius tries to help. Marauders' era, snuggling in front of the fire.





	Firelight

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on LJ in 2011, moving some of my favourites over to here.

Remus padded carefully down the darkened stairs of the boys' dormitory towards the common room. It was very late, and he was certain he was the only one still awake in the tower, if not the entire school, but he couldn't sleep. His muscles were still sore and his joints ached from their transformation the previous night. His normally comfortable bed was no comfort to him, everything hurt and so he couldn't relax, couldn't sleep. After hours of listening to the soft sleeping sounds of the other boys and his own restless movements, Remus had given up, given in and resolved to go and read in front of the fire in the common room.

The remains of the fire cast enough light to see the dim outlines of the furniture in the room, the deep orange glow from the embers filled the darkness with a cosy closeness that soothed Remus's restless mind. Moving carefully and stiffly, he picked up a piece of firewood from the log bin and placed it on the embers. After a moment, the fresh wood caught alight, and the dancing flames brought a somewhat brighter light to the room. He was carefully picking up the next piece—he had to think about every movement when he was in this much pain— when someone else came into the common room from upstairs. Remus carefully put the log down on the fire and turned around. In the warm dark he could see that it was Sirius, wrapped up in the duvet from his bed.

"Whatcha doing Moony?" Sirius asked, moving to come stand next to him.

Remus watched the firelight dance over Sirius's face for a moment before saying, "I came down to read."

Sirius studied him for a minute, "What you mean is you can't sleep."

Remus sighed, "Yes. Go back to sleep Padfoot, I'm going to read."

"I could get you a sleeping draught," Sirius offered.

"It won't help," Remus said, "I just need to take my mind off of it and I'll sleep."

Sirius frowned at him, "Off the pain?"

"Yes Padfoot." Standing was becoming difficult, but Sirius was between him and the sofa.

"Let me help," Sirius said, almost begging. Sirius's need to help him is something that has always boggled Remus's mind. He usually gave into it because the sheer relentlessness that met his every refusal was frankly exhausting. Especially when he was already exhausted.

"I need to sit down," he said, not willing to give in just yet. To his surprise, Sirius opened his arms, wrapped Remus up in the duvet and walked them to the sofa, sitting and arranging Remus against his chest. The warmth of the duvet cacoon around him, of Sirius's body close, and the fire on his face were enough to make Remus dozy for a minute and he thought he might actually nod off when his knees reminded him of their existence, and his lower back insisted that it was burning, and his head felt two sizes too small to contain his brain.

"What were you going to read?" Sirius asked quietly, whispering against Remus's ear. There's no need for the whispering, but the dark of the room seemed to demand it, as though words spoken too loud would get lost.

"It's on the table," Remus said, trying to reach for it and grunting in pain instead. Sirius tsked in his ear and levitated the book to them with a muttered charm.

Sirius caught the book and opened it, "From the beginning?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure," Remus answered.

"I'll read to you Moony, just relax."

Remus wanted to argue that reading and being read to aren't the same thing. While reading, Remus's mind was focused on the words and he could forget where he was, if he's warm or cold, or in pain. Listening to someone else read was different, he didn't have to pay attention, his mind could wander, dwell on the aches that plague him.

Sirius began reading before Remus could verbalize these points, and there must be some hypnotic quality to Sirius's voice tonight because Remus did follow the words as they fell from Sirius's lips, still close to his ear. Remus listened to the steady rhythm of words, and lulled by the cadence of sound combined with the living warmth of boy and fire, he drifted on the edge of awareness.

He woke slowly, approaching awareness as though from a great distance. Sirius was still reading, but the fire needed more wood, it had settled down to embers again. Remus felt fuzzy, and the room seemed unreal. His limbs all felt like they were made of lead, he wasn't sure he could move if he wanted to. He tried to focus on the words that Sirius was reading and after a few minutes he succeeded; he hadn't been asleep long. Sirius was holding the book in one hand, and his other arm was wrapped around Remus's chest, holding him close. 

"Heya Moony," Sirius said quietly and Remus realized that he must have moved a bit, "You slept a bit, huh?"

"Yeah. You kept reading?" Remus asked.

"It's a good story," Sirius said in his ear. 

"Thank you."

"Any time. I'll keep going then, shall I?"

Remus shook his head, it rolled back and forth against its resting pace on Sirius's shoulder, "I've kept you up long enough."

"I don't mind. I wouldn't be able to sleep now anyway, knowing you're down here, hurting." 

Remus drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sirius—"

"Shush, Moony, I'm reading to you." Sirius tightened his hold on Remus's chest and began reading again.

The flickering light of the fire caught Remus's attention and he watched the rosy glow for awhile, not really attending to the words that Sirius was reading. The fire cracked and popped occasionally.

"Sirius—" Remus tried again, only to have Sirius shove his hand over Remus's mouth.

"I'm not having this argument with you, Moony. I'm am going to read to you until you fall asleep, then I'm going to put the book down and sleep too." Sirius cleared his throat and began to read again.

Remus tried to sit up, but he's so warm, so relaxed finally that he can't move. He still hurt, but the heat and the warmth have made it a more distant ache. Sirius, feeling him move with purpose, put the book down and wrapped the other arm around him.

"Moony. Please stop being all noble, hm? I want to sit here with you, so relax. I want to help you, you know I love you and that means taking care of you when you need it, and you need it Moony, that was a bad moon for you. So stop feeling guilty." Sirius held him tightly for a long moment, so tightly it almost hurt; but Sirius knew that the words that were meant to comfort might actually give Remus the determination to break free and rise from the sofa.

Remus couldn't help but feel guilty. His friends shouldn't have to nurse him, but that wasn't even the crux of the problem. 

"And don't be sorry," Sirius added as he loosened his hold, "You are not taking advantage, I am."

And there it was. . . 

Two months ago the Change had not gone well at all, and Remus had woken in the Shack to find a red-eyed Sirius hovering next to the mouldering bed he was lying on. He couldn't move, he felt like he'd been ripped apart— he nearly had in fact, as he found out later. Sirius hovered and fussed and raged against the lycanthropy, the world. Then he'd quieted, sat down on the edge of the bed and apologized. He'd been silent for a long time before he'd said, in a broken voice, "It's even harder because I love you, I had thought that I just fancied you, but I was wrong. Merlin, I hate seeing you hurt. And I know you don't share in my vile perversions, I'm sorry." Then he had sighed deeply, "But I feel better for telling you."

And Remus had said, once he decided that the confession had not been some half baked prank. "It's not vile or perverted."

"It's pretty wretched of me," Sirius had insisted, "To burden you with that, when you're sick, or at all."

"Sirius," Remus had said. "I don't mind. I'm surprised, but I don't mind."

"I'm right though, aren't I? You don't love me?"

"Not like that," Remus had answered and they hadn't really spoken of it again, but something in Sirius had loosened, like he had been holding himself in check . . .

Sirius loved him. It was surprising, and it made him feel warm and guilty at the same time. Warm, because it was nice to know that despite the fact that he's a dark creature, someone (mad, mad Sirius Black, but still, someone) can look past that and love him. And guilty, because he doesn't have it in him to love Sirius in the same way.

"Sometimes," Remus said now, hoarsely into the warm, dark room, "I wish I could change myself, Padfoot, so I could--" he didn't get to finish his sentence, Sirius's free hand has covered his mouth again.

"Hush Moony, it's okay. I'm going to read to you now."

And he did.


End file.
